Heater
by Copyrightdragon
Summary: Being out of the limelight means a better chance of picking and choosing your battles, usually...


**Disclaimer: Worm is the exclusive intellectual property of Wildbow. (tfw you mislabeled the disclaimer in the previous part)**

'Just my luck.' Penny rolled her eyes behind a curtain of dyed black hair as she listened to the dark skinned teen go on up at the register, holding what looked like a liquigel up in the air.

The payment had finally come in for the last bounty she'd handed in, a couple of cousins with Brute powers running a street gang on Chicago's south side. Being on the lam meant she had to make money somehow and getting paid under the table for vigilante cape work gave her much more flexibility than a regular job did. It also meant that she had a limited timespan that she could stay in the area until authorities caught on to her presence and put her on the local Protectorate's list of vigilantes to arrest on sight due to "recklessness and excessive brutality". She got the job done, so what if she had to break a few bones every now and then to do it? It's not like she had the resources of the Protectorate and the PRT behind her, anymore. Mercy wasn't a luxury she could afford when severe injuries could land her in a hospital, or, more likely, in jail.

Anyway, literally all she'd wanted was to pick up a new color of hair dye since she had to skip town soon, but no, of course it couldn't be that simple. Leaving New York, she'd had to hide in an overhead compartment on a train because she couldn't afford to pay for a ticket that would allow her to stay on the train the entire way. She'd been a lot more savvy about her finances here in Chicago, and of course the biggest color up she's gotten in months just so happens to be the very same night she goes to a drug store that's getting robbed. Right. Penny sucked her teeth in annoyance.

He couldn't have been more than 23, and he looked pretty darn scrawny. She could probably take him out with ease, provided the bandolier of test tubes, bottles, and liquigel packs running across his chest weren't _all_ explosives like he claimed the orange one that he was holding up to be. The blonde groaned internally at seeing the cashier backtalk the kid. This wouldn't be easy. If he decided to make everyone in the store turn out their pockets, she'd be forced to either unveil herself and attempt to escape, or lose all her money and likely be stuck here for another couple of months until she could find another mark to take in.

As she stared past the man in front of her shaking like a leaf at the sight of the cashier slowly taking the money out with a scowl on his face, likely trying to stall while a coworker of his called for help, she debated whether or not it was worth it to try and take this kid down, anyway. Tinkers tended to be particularly hard to catch once they got entrenched. Everyone wanted them brought in as unscathed as possible because they wanted their abilities; they seldom actually wanted them for anything good or bad they might've done, Mannequin being an extreme exception.

His lab coat spray painted with graffiti made her think that he was working for a street gang of some sort, but his cape name in big bold letters on the back indicated otherwise. Alkali. Clearly this kid was trying to make a name for himself. If she brought him in early and managed to keep him intact, he could actually be the jackpot she needed to get all the way to Vegas, instead of catching a rideshare to Minneapolis like she'd been planning. Penny saw him throw a purple test tube at the door, and when it shattered, the liquid inside condensed into a solid upon hitting the air, inflating into something that looked like containment foam to block the entrance.

"I don't think you understand. I'm not just here for money. I'm taking everything you and everyone in this store can carry. You think I don't know that you've got a friend in the back there trying to call the cops? You think I _buy_ these? Nah, bro. Drop the cash. Why pay when I can get ingredients for free?"

'Fuck.' Penny reached for her power, praying she could draw a joker and get this over with quickly. Joker only lasted for two minutes but given that the PRT would likely be on their way soon, if they weren't already, she couldn't afford to take her time, here, anyway. Her power coursed through her, her feet sinking slightly into the carpet. Refocusing on the world outside, she took a deep, calming breath. Diamonds she could work with. At the very least, it'd make preventing collateral a lot easier.

"'Hey, are you listening?" The kid, Alkali, snapped his fingers in her face. It seemed the cashier and the man in front of her had already gone down the appropriate aisles for whatever fetch quest he'd sent them on. She flashed him a smirk.

"No." He smirked right back, his green-tinted goggles giving him a better poker face than he probably had.

"You know, you're pretty bad for a white girl and all, but that doesn't mean you're off the hook." Alkali nodded his head towards the aisles. "Cold medicine, pain relievers, all the over-the-counter shit you can fit in this basket, here. Fill it up, bring it back, get another one, repeat. You got me?"

"Yeah, I got you."

She slugged him in the gut, and he doubled over with grunt. Being hit by someone with the molecular hardness and density of a diamond tended to hurt. Then she kneed him in the face, blood gushing out as his nose was practically shattered. He stumbled back and tangled up his own feet, falling onto his butt. Now all she had to do was find something to tie him up with, try and drag him out a back door, hotwire a car, and… Why had she thought this was a good idea again? Seeing him begin to reach for one of his chemical surprises, she stepped over to push him so that he was laid out flat and kept one foot lightly on his forearms to keep him from moving them. He coughed.

"Damn, you hit hard." His voice came out a bit nasally due to the broken nose.

"Practice." Penny answered him snappishly, hoping he'd take the hint and shut up while she tried to think through her strategy.

"You don't seem like a hero, no offense." It was hard for her not to scoff. She didn't have time for this. Reaching inwards, she prayed that she got clubs. Unless she could bodily carry him out, she didn't think there was any way for her to salvage this situation, but she refused to be a steamer.


End file.
